Chapter 12
The gavel came down with a sharp, clean crack, signaling the formal conclusion of the emergency session. As the board members began to file out of the room in hushed, nervous clusters, Clara remained seated at the head of the table, staring at the panoramic view of the city.
Arthur Vance lingered behind, standing near the window with his hands in his pockets. “That went smoother than anticipated. Fear is a remarkably efficient motivator when combined with undeniable evidence.”
“They were never loyal to Julian, Arthur. They were loyal to stability and profit,” Clara said quietly, not taking her eyes off the horizon. “Now they realize that stability requires truth, and profit requires competence.”
“What about the criminal trial?” Vance asked, turning to face her. “The arraignment is scheduled for Friday. Your presence will be requested as the primary witness.”
“I’ll be there,” Clara said without hesitation. “I want to look them in the eye when the judge reads the charges. I want them to remember every second of what they tried to bury.”
Vance nodded slowly. “Take care of yourself, Clara. Reclaiming an empire is one thing, but healing the wounds of the grave takes time.”
May you like
“The grave taught me one very important lesson, Arthur,” Clara said, standing up and buttoning her black coat. “Pain is temporary, but survival is permanent.”
She walked out of the boardroom, leaving Vance alone in the quiet expanse of the high-rise. Downstairs, her car was waiting to take her back to her private residence—the house she had lived in before the accident, where her personal belongings still sat untouched in the closets, waiting for an owner who had finally returned to claim them.
